


stitching up the loose threads of my soul

by pirateygoodness



Series: if you want i can tell the truth [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Comfort Sex, Couch Cuddles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 10:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13973124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateygoodness/pseuds/pirateygoodness
Summary: Ava needs the time and space. At least, Sara assumes she does. Ava has the death of Director Bennett fresh in her thoughts, the new responsibility of being Director Sharpe and figuring out what that means. Sara would want time and space, if she were in Ava's position.Sara doesn't push it but she does think about it, every day. She has breakfast, eats her oatmeal and fruit and thinks about Ava stealing a blueberry and winking at her, flirtatious with the kind of bravery that comes from a morning after. She sits in the jump ship and drinks her tea, and thinks about calling.(Or: Sara gives Ava space after the events of Episode 3.13, until she doesn't. Hurt/comfort and slow, tender sex.)





	stitching up the loose threads of my soul

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through Episode 3.13, "No Country For Old Dads." Title from Noah Kahan's "Young Blood."

Sara doesn't talk to Ava for days. 

Ava needs the time and space. At least, Sara assumes she does. Ava has the death of Director Bennett fresh in her thoughts, the new responsibility of being Director Sharpe and figuring out what that means. Sara would want time and space, if she were in Ava's position. 

Sara doesn't push it but she does think about it, every day. She has breakfast, eats her oatmeal and fruit and thinks about Ava stealing a blueberry and winking at her, flirtatious with the kind of bravery that comes from a morning after. She sits in the jump ship and drinks her tea, and thinks about calling. 

She doesn't. She gives Ava her space. 

Ava's never been very interested in texting, but she sends a few messages here and there. She checks in with a little _good morning_ every day, tells Sara to let Gideon know that her coffee is better than the stuff they make at the Bureau. 

On the fourth day, Ava sends Sara a photo. She's obviously taken it herself, from her desk at work. It's later in the day than Sara would expect her to be there. In the photo, Ava's got her hair down, brushed across one shoulder in that familiar sweep that makes Sara want to run her hands through it. This time, though, it's not curled or neat at all. It's hanging straight, sort of half-tousled and hanging down her shoulder like the best she could muster was to drag her hand through it a couple of times before taking the photo. She looks tired, the lines around her smile deeper than they should be, her eyes a little red. Sara should probably be concerned about her. 

Or, rather - Sara is concerned about her, but before she can get to that feeling she has to wade through the fog of her own emotions, just a little. Even overworked and in disarray, Ava is _gorgeous._ Sara knew it before, but now that they've had sex - just one night of it, and Sara wants so much more - she knows it in a way that's vastly more intimate. She looks at the line of Ava's mouth in the photo, curved into a tired half-smile, and thinks about the way she kissed Sara. The way she used her mouth to learn Sara's lips with a deliberateness that threw Sara off balance, that made it feel more intimate than kissing has felt for Sara in a good, long while. 

The line of Ava's jaw is clearly visible, her face angled toward the camera just a little bit and Sara is suddenly so full of wanting, the idea of kissing her way down Ava's jaw enough to make her bite her own lip. Sara drags her lower lip through her teeth and tries not to think about Ava doing just that. It's one selfie, she shouldn't be as hot for this as she feels. She should be - something else. A person who doesn't look at the way Ava's free hand is rubbing the back of her neck in that photo and think about kissing the length of her forearm, about the way those muscles would flex if Ava was fucking her with that hand. 

Sara's had thirty years - give or take a few months dead - to get used to herself. She's always liked sex, has always seemed to need it more than people expect her to. It's only with Ava that she seems to second-guess it. She just wants - she doesn't want to be anything other than who she is. But she wants who she is to be someone that Ava wants to be with, so strongly that she can't quite let herself think about it. 

Sara phone vibrates and a message alert pops across the screen, breaking her concentration. She taps away from the photo, back to her conversation and the message Ava's just sent below it: _I miss you._

Sara stares at the message for almost as long as she stared at the photo before it. It's not a big deal that Ava misses her. It makes sense - they went from seeing each other or talking nearly every day to barely speaking, Ava too caught up in dealing with work to have the time. But her emotions have other ideas, and her chest suddenly feels tight from them. It's not a big deal, but the surge of butterflies in her belly and the grin she can feel spreading across her face tell Sara that her heart doesn't believe that one bit. 

She exhales, realizes that she's been too caught up in her own feelings to remember to breathe.

Sara flicks the app closed, checks Gideon's universal clock: it's 10 PM on a Thursday for Ava. She sends a message back: _Tell me you're not still at work right now._

The reply from Ava comes almost immediately. _Just packing up :)_

 _Too tired for me to call?_ Sara sends back. It's alright if she is. It's alright if Ava is too busy. She needs time and space and the Bureau is sorting through another tragedy and Ava needs to lead. It's alright, except that Sara's heart is hammering like she's sixteen years old again, desperate for Ava to say yes. 

The space between Sara's message and Ava's reply is just long enough that Sara's starts to regret asking, disappointment creeping into the edges of her mood when her phone blinks again. _Never. ;) I'll be home in fifteen minutes, is that alright?_

_Talk to you then._

Sara's alone in her bunk. There's nobody around to see the way she flops onto her back on the bed, or the way she clutches her phone to her chest and smiles at the ceiling, her heart suddenly full. 

It's almost exactly fifteen minutes later when Gideon's voice comes softly through the speaker next to her bed. "Captain, I have a call from Director Sharpe coming through." 

Fifteen minutes is just enough time for Sara to have stopped grinning like an idiot, make her bed, and pick up the worst of the dirty laundry on the floor. Just in case. 

"Thanks, Gideon," Sara says. 

She hears the familiar, vaguely electronic swoosh of Gideon opening a call and then Ava's face is projected into the space in front of Sara's bed. The image is a bit fuzzy, transparent without a wall directly behind it, but Sara still has a good view of Ava and her tired smile in motion as she says, "Hey." 

She's at home. Sara's never seen Ava's place before, and the glimpse she can see from the screen in front of her is just enough detail to make her interested and nervous all over again. Interested because Sara wants, for this to be the kind of relationship where Ava takes her home. Nervous because of how much she wants it.

Ava's in a space that looks like a living room; a white wall and framed art behind her, a house plant visible over her shoulder. She's sitting on a couch, and Sara can see her Bureau-issue blazer slung over the back of it. She's still wearing her dress shirt but it's unbuttoned, hanging open to reveal the white t-shirt she was wearing underneath, tucked into her trousers. Her hair is even more ruffled than it was in the photo, spread across both her shoulders and all Sara wants to do is reach through the projection and play with it. 

Sara shoves her hands underneath the backs of her thighs, finds she's already smiling as she says, "Hey, you." 

Ava's smile gets softer. She ducks her head for a minute, gaze dropping to her lap. As she moves, her hair falls even farther forward and hides her face. It's a little thing, but Ava getting that look because of Sara lets Sara feel more sure of herself, and melts some of the fluttering behind her ribs. Ava clears her throat, brings her hands up to gather her hair behind her head and then smooth it in a bundle across one shoulder. "How are you?" Ava asks. 

Sara shrugs. She's wearing a sweater, one of her white slouchy ones that fits well around the arms and chest. Ava's eyes follow the movement of her body with her shrug, flick down to take in Sara and it sends a thrill of pride through her. She likes being watched by Ava. She likes knowing that Ava appreciates looking at her. "Not too bad. But then, I'm not the one pulling fourteen hours at the Bureau, so maybe I should be asking you the same question." 

Ava sighs. Her brows come together in a frown, and suddenly there's a deep, naked sadness to her. It makes Sara the way she always feels when someone she cares about is upset: worried with a vague, unfocused desire to fix whatever's making Ava look like that. (Even though she knows the answer, knows grief and the weight of responsibility aren't things that can be fixed.) "I don't want to talk about it," Ava says. "Everything is - it's just such a mess." 

Sara nods. Ava's got the look of someone that _needs_ to talk about it, but Sara doesn't know if that's something it's her place to push. They're still too new at this, still learning all the edges of each other. There's so much about Ava that Sara doesn't know yet. 

(She wants to. Oh, does she ever want to.)

Sara waits for a little longer to speak. She's still trying to read Ava, to figure out if the right thing is to change the subject or coax her to talk or tell Ava the story of Wally accidentally breaking Mick's favourite coffee cup. But before Sara can say anything, Ava sighs again and it all just comes tumbling out of her. Sara learns about the different factions at the Bureau, the disorganization and a brief twenty four hour witch hunt for agents of Mallus among them. She learns about how hard Ava works to take care of her people, how worried she is for the junior agents fresh out of training that she's sending into the field earlier than she'd like. She learns about all the ways that Director Bennett was a complicated man and the way Ava feels torn about her obligation to his legacy and the pragmatic side of her that sees value in working with Rip. 

Sara learns all of it and her heart aches. It's a lot for anyone to handle, and of course Ava is capable of handling it - she's smart and determined and does amazing things every day. But she can see how much Ava is hurting over it all, and she wants, so badly, to be the kind of person who can make things better. 

Ava finishes speaking, and as she does, her eyes go a little wide. She taps her fingers to her mouth, as if she's surprised at how much she's just said. "I'm sorry," she says. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to unload on you like that, I -"

"Hey, it's fine. I like -" Sara starts to speak, but can't quite finish. There's an end to that sentence in her head but it feels like too much to just _say_ it. She settles on: "I want to know what's going on with you."

"You do?" Ava says. She looks shy, and for a moment Sara can't think of why she would. It feels like it should be obvious that Sara would want to know everything about her when she's this beautiful, this interesting. 

"Yeah," Sara says. "Yeah, of course." 

"Oh." Ava's smiling at her softly, a tenderness in her eyes that Sara's seen before. Sara remembers that earnest, naked affection from her own bed, that night they had together. Ava's eyes on Sara in a way that made her feel so _seen_ that she'd felt the need to shy away from it. She'd covered it up then, by nuzzling her way down Ava's belly and between her legs. But with Ava on the screen in front of her, there's nowhere to hide. "Good." 

"Is there anything -" Sara starts, before her voice cracks with emotion. "Can I help?"

"I'll be fine," Ava says. Sara can see her forearms moving, like she's fidgeting with something offscreen. Sara remembers the way Ava sometimes worries at the edges of her sleeves, the way she taps her fingers her thigh or whatever she's holding, when she's nervous. 

Knowing that Ava's a bit nervous makes it easier for Sara to be confident. "That's not what I asked." 

Ava watches Sara for a beat, and when she speaks it's on an exhale, her whole body relaxing into her words: "Can you come over? You don't have to - we don't have to do anything. I just miss you." 

Sara feels the warm buzz of excitement start to flood her chest, not lust but _eagerness_ , at the prospect of having time with Ava after four days of not. "Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I - just give me a minute." 

She ends the call, gives a few orders to Gideon in case the team needs her - they shouldn't, nighttime on the Waverider is almost synced up with time as Ava's calling in the present, but that doesn't always mean much when it comes to the Legends. As she finishes, a portal opens where Ava's projection had been. 

Sara steps into Ava's apartment and almost straight into Ava's arms. Ava's standing, her arms outstretched and when she hugs Sara it's a bit too tightly - like she's needed this more than she wanted to let on over the call. Sara hugs her back as hard as she can. Her nose ends up buried in Ava's hair and as she breathes in she just smells _her_ , the thing she didn't fully realize she was missing until now. Sara moves her head. She's not _cuddling_ but she's not doing something much different, as she noses her way closer against Ava's shoulder. 

Sara lets herself be held. She hears the soft hitch in Ava's breathing, wonders if she feels tears against the top of her head or if she's overthinking it. Sara turns as Ava loosens the hug, gets just enough room to turn and meet Ava's eyes. 

Ava's are bright with tears, a few already leaving glistening tracks down her cheeks. She's got her mouth set as if trying to hold them back. It feels so hard to even see this, to know what Ava looks like when she's trying to keep herself from crying. "Oh, hey," Sara hears herself whisper. 

Ava blinks twice, more tears suddenly appearing on her cheeks. Sara feels each one like a dull ache. Ava's always so sure with her, and it's complicated for Sara, seeing her like this. She feels privileged to see this side of Ava and heartbroken for her all at once, and Sara's just - she's not good with feelings. She cups Ava's cheek, tries to breathe away the sudden rush of worry that she'll screw this up as she brushes away the tears she can reach with her thumb. "Gosh, I should -" Ava mumbles, half to herself, and scrubs the remaining tears away with a loud sniff. 

Ava sets her shoulders back, clearly trying to regain her composure. She tries for a smile and manages something watery and half-hearted. Sara strokes at her cheek and Ava frowns, leans in and drags Sara up towards a kiss that feels like she _needs_ it. Ava's mouth is slow and intimate and somehow also - _chaste_ isn't the right word, not when Ava's tongue is sliding against Sara's lips, but it's somehow not about sex. It feels like Ava taking comfort from Sara, and Sara tilts herself as far up as she'll go, trying to give it. 

When their kiss breaks, Ava stays close. Sara rests with her, forehead to forehead, breathing each other's air. Ava's still a bit shuddery, breathing out emotion from her day, but as the longer she stands with Sara the more she seems to still and ease back into herself. 

Ava is the one to break the spell between them, after what feels like minutes of standing with each other, breathing. She shakes her head, forcing a laugh and swiping the last errant tears away. "Anyway, welcome," Ava says. 

Sara does her best to respond to Ava's laugh and manages a soft smile. Ava still looks so sad, and it's hard for Sara not to feel it and worry, but she does her best to let Ava guide her. 

Sara had always suspected that Ava was an actual adult, with a real adult life, and the space around her only confirms it. Ava's apartment is immaculate. It's all one room, like a studio, but large enough for at least two people to comfortably live in. The kitchen to her left is clean, and the way it's laid out tell Sara that Ava is someone who actually cooks. It blends seamlessly with the living room, the couch and the armchair and the little pillow next to the window that Sara realizes is probably a pet bed. To her right the floor is raised, two steps leading up to a dresser and a bed that looks exactly as buttoned-up and organized as the rest of Ava. 

The bed has throw pillows. Of course Ava would be the type to have throw pillows. 

"I like it," Sara says. "It suits you."

Ava smiles at that. She looks a bit awkward, now that she's finished crying. A movement catches Sara's eye and she looks down to see Ava tapping her fingertips against her own thigh. It occurs to Sara that maybe they're both out of their depth here, and somehow that makes it easy for her to figure out what the right thing is. She takes the hand that Ava's been tapping and threading her fingers with Ava's. 

Ava looks down at their joined hands. Her smile gets a little wider, reaching her eyes this time, and she squeezes Sara's hand. 

Sara sits on the couch, arranging one one leg straight across the length of it and the other foot on the floor so that her legs form a V of space. "Come here," she says. She tugs with their joined hands until Ava relents and settles herself in the space in front of Sara.

The couch is almost too long for Ava, but she manages to tuck her knees into her chest and fit her whole body onto it. Her back presses against the inside of Sara's thigh as she rolls onto her side and cuddles in close, slouching down until her head is resting on Sara's chest. 

Sara puts one arm around Ava's shoulders, and starts to card through Ava's hair with the other. She can't see Ava's face very well, but she can see her eyes flutter closed, and she can feel the set of her shoulders start to soften a little. "You're one of the strongest people I know," Sara says. "You know that, right?" 

Ava laughs, bright-eyed, and as she blinks Sara can see tears start to spill down her cheeks again, feels them wet against her sweater. "You're not just saying that because I'm all weepy?" 

"I'm saying it because it's true," Sara says. "I would never lie to a beautiful woman." 

Ava laughs out loud at that, cuddles her way closer against Sara's chest. "You and your team lie all the time." 

"Not about this," Sara says, pressing a kiss to the top of Ava's head as punctuation. "I promise." 

Ava nods against Sara, sniffling just a little bit as the spot on Sara's shirt gets a little bit wetter. She still feels so messed up about all of this, confused about how to feel. It feels so _good_ having Ava in her arms like this but awful to hear her upset, to hear her trying to cry as quietly and neatly as possible. Every time she feels the little hitch of another sob, she hugs Ava tighter. 

Eventually, the shudders of Ava's shoulders start to slow, and she starts to breathe more deeply. "This is so hard," Ava whispers against Sara's chest. 

"I know," Sara mumbles, pressing another kiss to her head. 

When Ava sits up, her eyes are red-rimmed. She looks undeniably like she's been crying, and as she swipes her hands beneath her eyes she rubs away cried-off mascara and tears. There's a box of tissues on the coffee table, and Ava uses one to dab at her cheeks until they're clean and dry. 

She's beautiful in a different way, now. Sara hasn't seen Ava without her makeup on before. She looks softer around the edges, tired and a little bit older, and Sara's feelings somehow multiply at the sight of her.  
Ava's eyelashes are blonde. Sara can't believe she managed to survive this long without knowing that about her. 

"Well, this is embarrassing," Ava says, around a last round of sniffles. "If it helps, when I called you I had very different plans for the way this evening would go." 

The way she says the word _plans_ pings at something low in Sara's belly and it's a little embarrassing how quickly her body responds, the way she can already start to feel something sweet stir between her legs. "Director Sharpe, was I being booty called?" Sara asks. 

Ava backpedals, hands flying up to gesture in the negative. "No, no, of course, not, I wouldn't -" she stammers for a few flustered seconds before catching herself and shaking her head at Sara, recognizing that she's being teased. "Hey." 

"For the record," Sara says. "I would have been honored." 

Ava looks at her lap and blushes. "Duly noted," she says. 

Sara runs her hand along Ava's thigh. She means it to be comforting, but her hand runs a bit too high and Ava inhales, suddenly - shaky with something different than sadness. Sara won't say no to that, if it's on offer. She smiles. "Although, I have been told that I know some excellent stress-management techniques." 

Ava bites her lip, ducks her head again and Sara can see her cheeks turn a deeper shade of red. "Maybe?" Ava says. "I, um. I might just want you to sleep here. If that's alright." 

"Of course," Sara says, and it is. She tries to tell that, emphatically, to the desire settling down low, demanding her attention. 

Ava takes her to bed. 

Rather, Ava leads Sara to the bedroom. She sets her throw pillows on the floor, draws the covers back while Sara watches, a bit unsure of what Ava wants her to do. Ava slips out of her dress shirt, folding it before she sets it into the hamper, and does the same with her trousers. 

Sara doesn't want to overstep boundaries if Ava doesn't want this to be sexual, but the sight of Ava bending over her laundry hamper is enough to make want flare between her legs. She's just got such good _legs_ , Sara can see the strength in them and the curves to them and she has a sudden flash of three nights ago, when she was licking her way up from Ava's knees and making Ava shiver and sigh with anticipation. She blinks, trying to clear it from her thoughts. 

"Oh," Ava says. "Oh, your sweater - I'm so sorry." 

Sara looks down. There's a huge grey spot across her upper chest, mascara smeared from Ava's eyes. For some reason, seeing it makes her feel sort of warm inside. "It's fine," she says. 

"No, it's not fine. I - here. Give me your sweater, I'll get it cleaned." The way Ava says it - like she's the sort of person who actually gets her clothes dry cleaned - makes Sara feel awkward. Like maybe she's not together enough to be here. 

"You really don't have to." 

Ava holds out her hand, from across the bed. "I insist." 

It's sweet, and Sara wouldn't admit this to anyone but it's a little nice to feel taken care of, as she slips out of her sweater and tosses it into Ava's waiting arms. While Ava fusses with the stain, Sara figures it's alright to slip out of her jeans and socks - to sleep. She tries to fold them, a bit awkwardly. Ava's apartment just makes her feel like she should. 

When Sara looks up again, Ava is watching her with this expression that's soft around the edges. She's taking in Sara, noticing the fact that she's standing in her underwear on the other side of her bed. Sara tries not to think about it. She tries not to think about the fact that under Ava's t-shirt there's a whole expanse of stomach and breasts and back, and that it's been days since Sara last kissed her there. 

They slide into Ava's gorgeous, giant bed, approaching from either side and meeting in the middle. Ava's sheets are magnificent. Sara sighs, stretching out and letting herself feel the softness of them. She hasn't slept in a bed like this in a very long time. "Your sheets are amazing," Sara says. 

She looks up to see Ava, pink-cheeked and smiling softly. "You're killing me," Ava says. Sara frowns, not quite putting things together until Ava breathes in and bites her lip, her eyes suddenly full of desire. "How are you so beautiful?" she asks. 

Sara laughs, tries to shrug it off. "Years of experience."Ava rolls her eyes. "Of course." 

Ava slides her arm across Sara's middle. Her forearm is bare and Sara feels the skin drag along the bare skin of her belly as Ava pulls at her waist. Sara lets herself be tugged, slides toward Ava on the bed and as she does, Ava arches herself toward Sara. Her legs brush agains Sara's legs, then tangle with them, and it's so much bare skin on Sara's, all at once, that she can feel herself getting wet. Ava's hand moves upward, sliding across Sara's abdomen and up her ribs until she's got her forearm along Sara's sternum and her palm splayed flat across Sara's chest. She pulls Sara close with it, making sure Sara feels every inch of that contact and suddenly, all Sara can think about is sex. 

Ava nuzzles into Sara's shoulder from behind, kissing it softly. Sara feels it like sparks along her skin, shivering all the way down her back and settling where she's already slippery and eager. "You said something about stress management?" Ava hums against her skin. 

Sara rocks her hips backward, fitting herself as close as possible against Ava's front. "If you need it," she replies. 

" _Yes_ ," Ava sighs, and Sara can't see her but she can hear the way she sighs with her whole body, relaxing into wanting this. 

She releases her arm from around Sara's shoulders. Sara plans to turn, to hook her leg around Ava's knee and straddle her hips. But as soon as she makes it onto her back Ava beats her to it, pinning Sara to the bed by her shoulders and settling herself on top of Sara's thighs. She leans down and tears at Sara's mouth, kissing her with hunger and intention. This is different from the time before, this is Ava wanting something specific and _asking_ for it, with every part of herself. 

She barely has to kiss Sara before Sara's almost desperate to give Ava whatever she needs. "Sara," Ava growls against Sara's mouth, her voice low and thick with desire and also the loveliest thing Sara's ever heard. 

"I'm here," Sara whispers, running her fingers through Ava's hair and tugging at it, gently. "I'm here." 

Ava inhales and sighs against Sara's throat. She leaves sharp, wet kisses down Sara's neck, across her collarbone. Sara feels every single one in her cunt, practically vibrating with desire. 

Ava has to shimmy down close to Sara's knees to make the angle work, but soon she's got her face buried in Sara's chest, nuzzling at her breasts. "Sara, I want -" Ava whispers, as she undoes Sara's bra. She groans against the bare skin of Sara as her bra slides away, adds, "You're beautiful. You're so beautiful." 

Then she can't speak at all, because she's got a mouthful of Sara's breast and she's swirling her tongue around Sara's nipple and it's so good that Sara's crying out and gasping. Sara can't believe how good she is at this, at flicking her tongue across the most sensitive parts of Sara's chest and making her ache. Ava releases Sara's breast with a warm, wet sound that Sara feels between her legs, says, "You taste so good." 

The talking is new. Not that Ava didn't talk the last time, but there was a lot more talking to communicate. This is _talking dirty_ , and it's different but it's _working_ for Sara, letting her see a side of Ava that Sara didn't realize was there. 

Sara lets go of Ava's hair to paw at her own underwear. She wants to take them off, gets halfway there before she realizes that Ava's body is in the way and without thinking she lets out a high-pitched, frustrated whimper. "I want to taste you all over," Ava murmurs, her hands holding Sara's around her underwear and stilling them. "Can I do that? Please?"

Sara knows exactly what she means. Ava hasn't - they didn't get that far the first time. Ava's still looking at her with earnestness, and Sara doesn't know if it's less overwhelming tonight or if she's just too worked up to care, but it feels okay. "Yeah," she sighs. "Yeah, yes - I'd like that." 

Ava grins. She moves off of Sara's legs, giving her enough space to wiggle out of her underwear. She doesn't fold them. She throws them over Ava's shoulder, and even that feels like it takes too long. The fact that Ava's no longer on top of her, sliding skin against hers, feels almost unbearable. 

She's not even on her back again before Ava's kissing down her belly, and the second Ava's mouth makes contact again, Sara moans. She's so hot for this, can feel it in the warm, delicious slip-slide of everything between her legs and all she wants is for Ava to touch her _there_ with _something._

Objectively, Ava isn't going slowly. Sara knows that. But it still feels like agony to wait as Ava skips her mouth down Sara's abdomen and toward her vulva. 

Ava tests things out with her fingers, first. She drags them up from Sara's knee, along the inside of her thigh while she leaves soft kisses and warm breath against Sara's lower belly. Slowly - too slowly - that touch moves upward, from Sara's thigh to her groin to her outer lips. Sara wants, feels it in her entire body as she wills Ava to touch _more._

She's so hot that the feel of Ava slipping her fingers past Sara's outer lips and around her clit is enough to make her arch forward and whimper. She reaches out, fists her hands in Ava's hair as gently as she can manage. "You're wet for me," Ava says softly, with a reverence that Sara feels in her chest. 

"Of course," Sara whispers. "Of _course_ , fuck, I need you to-"

Ava obliges. She moves down the bed, stretching out to lay on her front between Sara's legs. Her mouth is inches away from Sara's cunt and Sara feels herself flutter in anticipation, is sure Ava can _see_ it from the little gasp she hears. She's expecting to be teased. She's expecting Ava to be tentative, to treat this like a first time. Instead, Ava angles her face forward and laps her way into Sara's cunt, tongue-first. 

Sara's vision goes white with pleasure almost immediately. 

Ava's good at this - _great_ at this - and it's been far too long since Sara had someone go down on her this well. She feels like she's already floating, lost in the dexterity of Ava's tongue as she nuzzles against Sara's cunt. Ava licks against her deliberately, tongue strong and firm as she caresses Sara's clit with the tip of it. Everything about this is slick and perfect, Ava's mouth and Sara's cunt making each other wet as Sara gets closer to the edge. 

Sara's clit almost _feels_ swollen, feels like it hasn't been touched in ages and she knows that can't be true. Her head knows that she was touching herself last night thinking of Ava doing precisely this, but her body's apparently forgotten. All she can do is stay in the moment, feeling this and how good Ava's making it. Sara comes fast, her body suddenly tensing and arching back and she sighs Ava's name as she feels her orgasm build and break inside of her. 

Ava moans into her cunt, like having an orgasm is the hottest thing Sara could have done. She laps at Sara again and again, her tongue slowing as she eases Sara from the shouting, frantic rush of her peak to little shivers that seem to go on forever. 

When Sara's finally finished, Ava sits up slick-mouthed and smiling. She drags her hand across her chin, wiping Sara's wetness from her mouth. It's a gesture that should be _filthy_ , but somehow on Ava it comes across as tender. Probably because while she does it, Ava's looking down at Sara like she's wonderful, affection and desire naked on her face. Somehow, Sara doesn't feel like hiding from it anymore. 

Instead she laughs, and lets herself be held by Ava as she catches her breath. "Thank you," Ava whispers against Sara's hair. 

Sara chuckles. "I think that's what I'm supposed to say." 

"Maybe," Ava murmurs. 

She's holding Sara so gently, so patiently, but Sara saw the desire in her eyes a few moments ago. She turns in Ava's arms. "What do you need?" Sara asks. 

"You," Ava says. Her eyes are shining again, emotion behind them and it feels okay. It feels like just enough for Sara to handle. "I need you." 

"Take your shirt off," Sara says. 

Ava obliges, sits up to get out of her shirt and bra and Sara is struck, all over again, by her breasts. By all of her, the curve of her waist and the way her hair spills over her shoulders and back and the way she's looking sideways at Sara with that little half-smile. They're still new at this, Sara's still new at Ava's body, but _fuck_ , she wants to learn every inch of it. 

When she settles back next to Sara, she looks - _shy_ isn't the right word, but _vulnerable_ might be. She's letting Sara see so much of her emotionally, and now she's naked in Sara's arms, and the fact of seeing Ava like this makes something warm and very secret bloom inside Sara's chest. 

Ava's hair is messy, tangled from Sara's hands in it, and Sara takes a moment to smooth it to the side, brushing it away from her face. "Hi," Sara says. 

Ava reaches up and mirrors Sara's gesture, tucks her hair behind her ears with a soft smile. "Hey, you." 

Sara runs her hand from Ava's hair to her upper chest, down to her breasts. She runs her thumb across one side, feels Ava's nipple tighten under her touch. "How are you doing?" Sara asks. 

Ava bites her lip, arching back with her whole body as Sara drags her nails across the underside of Ava's breast and up, ending with a gentle flick. "So good," Ava says, with a long, slow sigh that ends in a moan. "You're so -" 

Sara replaces her hand on Ava's breast with her mouth, and Ava's sentence ends in a whimper and the soft rustle of sheets as she bends her knees, inviting. "What do you need?" Sara asks, her mouth still dragging a path of kisses across Ava's skin. "I want you to feel good." 

Ava sighs, whimpers, "Feel so good. Oh god I -" 

Sara can't resist. She slides her free hand down Ava's belly and over her mound, holding her through her underwear. "Touch me," Ava groans. "Just - touch me." 

Sara obliges. Her hand goes underneath Ava's waistband and she runs her fingertips along Ava's vulva. She's rewarded with a sigh, with Ava's knees bending further. Every part of Ava is _slick_ , coating Sara's hand with her desire. Knowing that - that Ava got this worked up just taking care of her - makes Sara feel a little surge of pride.

She wants to go slow. She almost feels like Ava deserves slow, she's had such a hard day and Sara wants to make her feel good enough to overshadow all of that, if she can. She slides her fingers upward, finds Ava's clit and this she does know, the feel of it under her fingers. Ava's arches into her hand and whispers, " _Yes_ , oh god." 

Sara starts to trace a pattern across Ava's clit. She's trying to take her time, moving in lazy circles that aren't meant to make Ava come just yet. But Ava's body responds so beautifully, so much more than Sara expected. She wraps herself around Sara, buries her head in her shoulder and arches into her hand. Her whimpers slowly coalesce into words, _please_ over and over against Sara's skin. 

Sara's fingers move faster, circles growing tighter until she's rubbing at Ava's clit like she would her own. She draws more whimpers, and then Ava is moaning out loud, her body and her voice reaching a fever pitch. Ava's climax comes with a moan, with burying her head in Sara's shoulder and kissing it with all of her teeth, hard enough that it feels like she might be leaving a mark. Sara groans at the feel of it, keeps working her hand until suddenly everything pauses. Sara can't see Ava's face but she can feel it against her hand: the moment hanging at the edge of release and then the wet, shuddering softness of her as she comes.

Sara slows her pace just a little, keeps contact as she moves in a decrescendo until Ava stops shaking underneath her. "Thank you," Ava whispers again, even more dreamy and starry-eyed than before. "Thank you." 

Now it's Sara's turn to hold Ava. She takes her hand away, drags slippery fingers across Ava's side as she urges her onto her side and wraps herself around Ava's back. "Anytime," Sara says, holding Ava as tightly as she can. 

Ava's laugh is deep and slow, full of satisfaction as she wriggles her hips backward to fit against Sara's. "Careful," she mumbles drowsily. "I might take you up on that." 

Sara presses her mouth against Ava's bare back to keep herself from speaking. She's got that feeling again, big and warm and impossibly private behind her ribs, something she won't be ready to name for a good long while. She just feels so proud to be here, that she could make Ava feel this way instead of sad. 

Ava settles into the pillow, tugging at Sara's arm to pull her even closer against her back. "Stay here tonight?" she murmurs. 

"Of course," Sara says, scratching gently at the skin of Ava's belly. "As long as you need." 

Sara lets herself drift into sleep, warm in Ava's bed and content with Ava in her arms. If Ava called Sara to come over and do this every single night, she's pretty sure she would.


End file.
